Bye Bye Laptop!
by Cathy Barton
Summary: What happens when the Gboys break Heero's laptop? Well...you're about to find out. Totally insanity guarenteed. This is hilarious!
1. Loss of Laptop

Hey People! This was a joint effort from all us crazy people at a sleep over.  
  
Disclaimer: WE OWN NOTHING!!!  
  
Heero Babi: Our inspiration for this story b/c she almost ruined her laptop by accident, also a big contributor to the insanity!  
  
Becky (not an authoress like the rest of us): Hi I was reading love hina during this but I did contribute a few ideas.  
  
Cathy Barton: Was not present at the sleep over, but allowed us to post it.  
  
Foxfire: Well, Me! I am the insane writer of this story! Yup. This is all my doing, but not mostly my ideas. This story wouldn't be here if it weren't for our awesome teamwork!  
  
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10 CENTS A CUP: Part 1:  
  
It was a normal day at the safehouse.  
  
Heero was happily typing away at his beloved laptop all morning. Duo had just recently finished his rounds of annoying the less talkative members of the five for today, and had retired for the shower, which promised to be very long and relieving for many. Trowa was busy flipping through the channels again, and had just found a Spanish soap opera and was quietly weeping in the corner, rocking himself gently and sobbing, but no one really noticed.  
  
Quatre had been playing chess with Wufei since 5:00 that morning. It was their 6th re-match so far. The five previous games had ended in a stale mate. Duo was wise enough to keep his distance from the game, though, after the . . .errr . . .katana incident. Lets just say that Wufei isn't a particularly graceful loser. Don't worry, Duo managed to keep his braid.  
  
Speaking of Duo, he came back from his shower and into the main room with the other four at that exact moment, with a towel around his waist, and quickly looked to Trowa watching the Spanish soap opera and listening to the bunch of nonsense on the screen.  
  
"Hey," Duo pointed at TV, but looked to the sniveling Trowa, catching the long-banged boy's attention, "Can you actually understand them?"  
  
"Why did Juan have to catch Tuberculosis!" Trowa sobbed (still watching the Spanish soap opera). Duo sweat-dropped, and knew that it was best to just leave him alone and went to check on how the chess game was doing.  
  
"Injustice! I needed that rook!" Wufei stood up, whipping out his katana and pointing it at Quatre, who put down his tea, flinched slightly, and looked up to the on-looking Duo for assistance.  
  
There were a few moments of chaos as Wufei went on rampage at Duo who told him he was 'overreacting' and started chasing him around the house. Duo desperately held the towel around his waist in place as he bounded over various tables and chairs, before Heero, in his perfect timing, addressed the four, freezing even the Chinese boy in mid-swipe of his katana.  
  
"HNNN!" Heero yelled at the four, or in translation, 'I'm-going-to-go-epyon- on-all-of-you-if-you-don't-stop-right-now!'  
  
They -all- stopped, well, Trowa let out a meek sob, but only because Jose had been stranded on a desert island for four years and just came back, but he doesn't love Elisa anymore. But, anyway . . .  
  
"I'm going out on a mission. It shouldn't take long. Touch my laptop, Duo, and omae o korosu!" Heero narrowed his eyes at the braided boy whose hair was still down and -very- wet. Duo fingered it innocently, as he was virtually unaffected by the glare, and stood it down before Heero turned away furiously and stormed out the door.  
  
/slam/  
  
"Well, that went well, I think." Duo said cheerily, bounding off to his room to get dressed.  
  
"Does anyone else want tea?" Quatre said, getting up from his chair and the chess game.  
  
"Ha! Tea is weak!" Wufei spat, "You will surrender to my bishop . . . seven more moves, and you shall perish!"  
  
Quatre raised an eyebrow as he exited to the kitchen to put on the hot water, "Look again, Wu-san." His voiced echoed through the hall, "My knight can get you in four."  
  
"What?!" Wufei asked incredulously, checking his moves once more, "Injustice!" He screamed as he realized it was true.  
  
A few minutes passed, and Wufei was diabolically creating a new plan, and Quatre came in with a fresh cup of tea, sitting down in the chair Heero used, and the laptop stood ominously on the countertop.  
  
Quatre took another sip of tea as he looked at the laptop screen.  
  
"Hey people!" Duo bounded into the room, fully dressed in his traditional priest's outfit and unbraided hair, with blow-dryer in hand. He bounced over to the chessboard and Wufei, quietly pondering his plan, "Who's winning?"  
  
"Urasai!" The Chinese boy hissed, "I'm trying to think!"  
  
"Hey, what do you think Heero does on this thing, anyway, guys?" Quatre asked, looking at the opened laptop screen with interest, "Mission reports don't take -that- long!"  
  
"Uh, uh." Duo shook his head and waving the blow-dryer at Quatre, "You heard what Heero said . . . touch his laptop, and I'm toast!"  
  
Quatre took another sip of his tea, "I don't know. Technically, that's only for you. What if only -I- touch it? We've all wanted to see what he has in this thing, right?"  
  
"Quatre, you sly, sly fox!" Duo chastised mockingly, and grinning madly as he walked over and plugged the blow-dryer into an outlet in the wall and ran it over his hair.  
  
"Can't you do that somewhere else, Maxwell?" Wufei hissed in annoyance, "- Some- of us are trying to concentrate!"  
  
"Well, ex-cuuuuuuu-se me!" Duo smiled as Wufei went huffily back to the chessboard.  
  
"Let's see now . . ." Quatre said, sipping tea out of his right hand as he hacked into the computer's files and took a long sip as they loaded. Duo watched in interest over Quatre's shoulder as they waited for a video clip to load . . . but Quatre and Duo froze and widened their eyes at what they saw.  
  
"What the friggin' hell. . .?" Duo raised an eyebrow. Wufei and Trowa looked over, curious to see what was on the screen. Duo scratched his head, "Hell . . . what is this crap?"  
  
It was at that exact moment when Quatre's teacup slipped from his hands and the tea scattered, completely covering the keyboard, and the laptop sat for a few seconds before erupting in a few sparks and leaving a blank screen in it's place.  
  
"Shit, Quatre! Heero's gonna have our fucking heads!" Duo exclaimed, and Trowa and Wufei nodded gravely. Quatre was still too surprised to talk.  
  
"Was that a dancing cucumber?!" Quatre asked, eyes filling half his head with absolute shock.  
  
"Yes, yes, Quatre. It was an animated dancing cucumber. I think it's called 'veggie tales', or something, and what Heero was doing with it on his computer, I have no idea, but that doesn't really much matter right now, because we'll both be dead in a couple of hours. You do realize we're in over our heads this time!?" Duo said, a mile a minute, shaking the frozen Quatre from his trance.  
  
". . . dancing cucumber?" The blond asked wistfully, picking up his empty teacup from the scene of the crime and watching the computer sizzle quietly.  
  
"Okay, we have to fix it." Duo said to himself, realizing that Quatre was obviously no help, waving his hands in the air, panicked, before realizing that he still held the blow-dryer in one of them, "That's it!"  
  
Duo leaned over the sparking computer and aimed the dryer like a gun at the keyboard. "Dry!" He shouted, turning it onto high power.  
  
Trowa and Wufei silently glanced to one another with raised eyebrows at Duo's action.  
  
"Do you think it'll work?" Trowa asked inquisitively, but Wufei never had a chance to reply, for at that very moment . . .  
  
"Shit Shit Shit!!" Duo swore, turning off the blow-dryer with annoyance, "The damn machine melted the keys! Now what are we supposed to do?"  
  
"Don't ask us. You're the one with the 'let's-evaporate-it' idea. Great going, Einstein." Wufei hissed, "Now, Heero's going to kill all of us, and it's all your fault!"  
  
"Hey," Duo said in defense, pointing to the Arabian, "He's the one with the tea!"  
  
"Alright," Trowa interrupted, stopping the quarrel before it started, "Lets solve this calm and rationally." He walked over to the laptop, "When Heero comes home, you'll all die, but I," Trowa grabbed the laptop and ripped off the screen, "Will be 100 dollars richer by selling this laptop screen on e- bay. See ya!" The clown then ran out the safehouse back door, laughing manically, before anyone had time to object.  
  
"So. . ." Duo started after a few minutes of silence, "That was odd. . ."  
  
"Injustice!!" Wufei screamed, "How dare he run away with the laptop screen! That was my idea!"  
  
Duo and Quatre looked worriedly at Wufei.  
  
"What?!" He screamed just before the front door opened.  
  
/Cr-Creak/  
  
"Fuck!" Duo hissed, "He's back! Under the couch! Under the couch!" He whispered to Quatre, pointing furiously at the remaining half of the laptop. What Heero couldn't see, wouldn't hurt any of them.  
  
So, it was quickly shoved under the couch, whereupon, Duo sat down, and Quatre continued to look as if he was very much involved in the chess game once again as Heero Walked in the door.  
  
"Who's under the couch," Heero narrowed his eyes, "And where's Trowa?"  
  
"Uh, yeah, Trowa's under the couch, you see. . ." Quatre chuckled nervously, "He's trying to set a world record for being confined in a small, dark space?"  
  
"I'd like to speak to him." Heero said solemnly, sensing that they were hiding something.  
  
"You can't!" Quatre said quickly, "I mean. . . that wouldn't be a good idea, you know, it takes a lot of concentration."  
  
"Duo? Where's Trowa?" The perfect soldier asked the one who he knew wouldn't lie.  
  
"Sorry Quatre, I can't lie." Duo cringed in a whisper before raising his voice, "Trowa left the safehouse."  
  
"Then who or what the hell is under the couch!?" Heero asked, obviously annoyed, and dangerously so. The whole room was silent, "Well . . . ???"  
  
/crickets/  
  
"Fine, I'll look for myself!" Heero shoved Duo off the couch easily with his strength and pulled the mutilated keyboard from its hiding place.  
  
His eyes first watered emotionally and then he screamed at all three of them "What have you done to her?! OMAE O KOROSU!!!!!!!"  
  
With that, Heero kicked all three of them quite unceremoniously out the door and told them they couldn't come back until they had gotten him a new laptop.  
  
/slam (again)/  
  
_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _Ten minutes later . . . _ _ _ _ _ _ _  
  
  
  
"I checked all the windows. They're locked and bolted. There's no way in." Quatre announced grimly.  
  
Duo sighed heavily as he finished re-braiding his hair.  
  
"I am not weak. I will get a job, and I think you should, too." Wufei said seriously as he got up from sitting on the steps and headed down the road.  
  
"Hey, wait a sec, Wu-man! I'm coming with you!" Duo ran after him, and Quatre, looking around, decided he didn't want to be alone and ran after him.  
  
Soon, Wufei, the loner, was surrounded with two much unwanted guests, and was about to express his aggravation when they spotted something further up the road. Well, to be more specific, they spotted Trowa sitting in a chair behind a little table to the side of the road.  
  
"Trowa!" The enraged three ran up to the bangled boy's stand and sweat- dropped when they saw the sign in front.  
  
"Lemonade: 10 cents a cup, Useless Decapitated Laptop Screen: 100 dollars? What the hell are you trying to pull here, Barton?" Wufei spat.  
  
"Yay! Lemonade!" Duo bounded up to the front of the stand, "I'll take a cup!" Trowa smirked.  
  
/mass face fault/  
  
"Well, we have to find some way to pay for Heero's laptop, and we can't very well go into the public looking for jobs. We're in the middle of a war. OZ will find us." Trowa said seriously, crossing his arms, "lemonade is innocent enough, and it sells like crazy."  
  
"Brilliant!" Quatre exclaimed, sitting down at the extra chair next to Trowa, whipping out a pen and paper. "I'll keep track of profits!"  
  
"And I'll mix the lemonade!" Duo shouted, heading for the lemons and sugar, mixing them extremely out of proportion. Much too much sugar . . .  
  
"Well," Wufei sighed, "Either they're all brilliant or blundering idiots, but I don't seem to have much choice." He took a position as taste-tester.  
  
_ _ _ _ _ _1 minute and 5 lemonade solutions later . . .  
  
"Maxwell, this tastes like crrrrrrrap!" Wufei slurred, "I liiiike it."  
  
"Uh," Quatre stated, as Trowa looked on similarly and Duo puffed with pride, "Duo, what's wrong with Wufei?"  
  
"What do you mean? He likes it!" Duo grinned.  
  
"He's drunk." Trowa announced indefinitely as Wufei slung an arm around his shoulder, raising a lemonade glass to his lips before saying, "Look at the ice. . . so pretty in the sun. . ."  
  
"Okay, so maybe I altered your lemonade mixture just a little . . ." Duo said, still grinning like mad, ". . . but it was so boring!"  
  
"So you spiked the lemonade? Duo!" Quatre shouted, "We've been selling that to little children and old ladies who were trying to be polite all afternoon!"  
  
"A little vodka never hurt anyone." Duo whipped out the bottle, "See, it's the -good- kind!"  
  
Wufei then stood up, but only stayed up there for a few unstable seconds before collapsing onto the sidewalk.  
  
"That's it, Duo!" Quatre said, glancing up from the drunken Wufei, "You are not only fired from mixing the lemonade, but I think you are a hazard to all of mankind."  
  
Wufei convulsed sharply on the ground and Trowa and Quatre looked at Duo ~very~ threateningly. Duo shied away, making sure not to make any sudden movements.  
  
  
  
_ _ _ _ _ _ _Meanwhile: Inside the Safehouse: _ _ _ _ _ _  
  
Heero is having trouble coming to grips with his loss, and has called a teen-help hotline.  
  
/brrring..brrring/  
  
Heero sniffed sadly as he waited for an answer on the other line.  
  
/brrring...brrring...Hello, this is your local anonymous teen help hotline sponsored by private donations. Please hold while we connect you.... Hello. My name is Clarissa and I'll be helping you today. What's wrong?/  
  
"I. . . I. . . I don't know how to live without her. She was. . . everything to me. . ." Heero let out a choked sob.  
  
/Why don't you tell me a little bit about her?/  
  
"Well, she was always so good to me. I spent hours with her . . . days even. . . late into the night . . . yes, those were good times. I still remember the way she would glow every time the lights went out . . ."  
  
/(Okay this guy's a perv.) What happened?/  
  
"My friends . . . they. . . killed her!" Heero sobbed openly into the telephone, "I mean, I know it was an accident, but still . . ."  
  
/Oh my god! That's terrible! Have you ever thought of taking this up with the police?/  
  
"I really don't think it's a matter of the law, I mean, I could always find a replacement."  
  
/That's a terrible thing to say! You should be ashamed!/  
  
"You're right." Heero sniveled, "I could never replace her, but I still can't get over that my friends would actually hack into her like that!"  
  
/Oh my god! How long ago did this happen?/  
  
"Only a few minutes ago. I . . .I'm still getting over the shock."  
  
/You have to tell somebody immediately! Is there anyone you can talk to who you know who can help with this problem?/  
  
"Yes, I believe there is," Heero said thoughtfully, "Thank you for all your help. I'll definitely call him." And with that he hung up.  
  
_ _ _ _ _ _ _  
  
Clarissa sat on the other end, listening to the dial tone, was still quite shaken from the conversation. "I think I need a coffee break," she handed the phone over to her co-worker who nodded an 'ok', "God; and I thought my life was complicated. That poor boy . . ."  
  
_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _  
  
"Hello, this is Heero Yuy. Can I please speak to Dr. J?" Heero asked the scientist on the other line.  
  
/Certainly. Please hold. . . . yes, Heero?/ The raspy voice of the Dr. reached over the phone-line.  
  
"You know that laptop you gave me?" Heero asked.  
  
/Yes, what's wrong with it?/  
  
"Dr. G's braided baka has killed it. Is a replacement an option?"  
  
/No/ and with that the scientist hung up.  
  
"Damn!" Heero yelled into the dial tone, and let the phone down on the hook. He, then, rummaged through the refrigerator for something to eat.  
  
"Hn?" Heero mumbled as he pulled out a container of chocolate ice cream, "This is the baka's. . ." He took a spoon and tasted it . . .  
  
With that, he headed into the T.V. room, chocolate ice cream container triumphantly in hand and sat in front of the screen.  
  
_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ half an hour later. . . _ _ _ _ _ _ _  
  
"Don't leave her, Juan! You idiot! She loves you!" Heero sobbed to the T.V. screen.  
  
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A/N (Foxfire) : Okay, let's check our stats:  
  
Heero: Depressed and eating chocolate ice cream while watching Spanish soap operas.  
  
Wufei: An unconscious drunk.  
  
Duo: Guilty of exposing small children to vodka  
  
Quatre: Traumatized by 'veggie tales'  
  
Trowa: Still hasn't found a buyer for the useless decapitated laptop screen.  
  
  
  
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Alrighty then! Please review. Becky, Cathy Barton, Heero Babi and I would so much like to hear other insane people like us respond to tell us how insane we all are. Yes? Can you do that? Goodgoodgood!  
  
Thank you! 


	2. No Dough

I love you all for reviewing this story, and it wasn't supposed to continue, but I decided to write another chapter dedicated to all you lovely reviewers! Vampiric Hermit: you reviewed my fic, What was Lost, right? So cool! Thanks again Cathy Barton for letting me post this. (Cathy Barton: Since I'm posting this, I believe I have the right to say that I contributed many ideas to this chapter! Yay! I get credit! But of course, Foxfire did the actual writing part...) I'm afraid this chapter may be even more twisted than the last ^^;;; ************************* Part 2: No Dough: It was a very eventful night. I think all three of them would agree. I say three, of course, because Wufei was still on the mend from Duo's experiments with liquor and was unconscious throughout the experience. Trowa and Quatre spent nearly two hours singing a song with Duo, who told them it would piss Heero off so much that he'd have to let them inside for the night. Well, after about twenty two rounds of The song that never ends, it ended . . . with the help of about 15 rapid-fire gunshots from Heero's window. Luckily, there were no casualties, and all three of them decided that they would retire to the back of the house for the night. They had almost forgotten Wufei, but Trowa grabbed him and slung the Chinese boy over his shoulder before heading off with the other two. _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ The next morning _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ "Uh, Duo?" Trowa asked surprisingly as he opened his eyes to the braided pilot who was still in a very-deep sleep, and currently clutching to Wufei like a teddy bear. "Ugh. . . Maxwell!" Wufei, the light sleeper, opened his eyes as the living plush toy and tried to get up, but quickly laid back down at the sharp pain in his head, "Damn!" He hissed. ". . . Hangover. . ." Trowa said solemnly to himself before Quatre popped out from behind, realizing that they were all covered in dirt and grass from sleeping in it the whole night. "Do you think Heero would let me in to just take a quick shower?" Quatre asked hopefully. "What do you think?" Trowa asked sarcastically, motioning to a bullet shell that rested aside them in the grass. "Yeah. . .I almost forgot," Quatre answered, "We have to find a way to get Heero a new laptop!" The Arabian said defiantly, stamping his foot into the ground as he rose to his feet. "Well, you're one to talk," The black-haired one clutched his head, trying vainly to escape from Duo's teddy-bear grasp. "You're the one with the money, and you got us into this mess in the first place. Why don't you get him a new laptop? . . . And get the Hell off me Maxwell!!!" He fumed, awakening the braided boy, who quickly released Wufei and looked around, a bit disheveled. "Sorry," Quatre shook his head, "Father cancelled my credit card last month because he can't afford to have the extra expenditure on his hands. The only other option would be to work." "But we already tried that!" Duo whined, getting up and into the swing of things, unwinding his loose braid to re-tie it again. "And you ruined it!" Wufei pouted, "Injustice! That is why I have this headache. Now we must find jobs and OZ will find us and crush us all." "Not if we think strategically!"Quatre suggested, "You see, certain jobs wouldn't attract attention from that audience. We have to look to those solutions." "Well. . . what did you have in mind?" Trowa raised his visible eyebrow dangerously high. _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ After 10 minutes of thought and threatening katanas, they finally reached a conclusion. Duo thought that Wufei's job was funny as hell, seeing as he suggested it, but didn't say so for fear of his life, because even as weak as it was, our Chinese pilot had been sentenced by the other three to the wonderful world of fast food. They had dragged the irate boy all the way from the safehouse for him to get an audition. He didn't pass the examination, but the fast food place really needed the help, so they let him have the job despite the death threats. "Injustice! Why must I wear an apron?!" Wufei hissed to himself, and the manager shot a disapproving glare towards the new worker. The Chinese boy grumbled, quietly thinking about several excruciatingly painful ways to kill the American for suggesting this. No self- respecting OZ soldier would come here, but Gundam pilots were, unfortunately, a separate matter when motivated by the threat of Quatre going ZERO again. And for that, Wufei stood at the microphone leading to the drive-thru window wearing a rather ridiculous employee outfit, foreign to the Gundam pilot who was so accustomed to his clan's traditional white. "Hello?" The microphone spoke to the Chinese boy, "Hello. . .?" "You're such a weakling for coming to this weak place! Learn how to cook!" Wufei yelled over the speaker. "Yeah. . .uh. . ."The male voice stuttered, I'll have the number 2 chicken special, I think." "Ha!" Wufei snorted indignantly over the speaker, "Chicken is weak! You must have beef if you have any sense of integrity!" ". . . . . . . . . But I like chicken." the customer protested. "~grr~ You weakling!" Wufei pulled out the infamous katana and pointed it threateningly at the microphone, at which point the manager chose to walk into the room, "Drive around to the window, and I'll show you the effects of good hearty beef, chicken boy!" A car was seen rushing past the drive-thru window behind Wufei, as the frightened driver drove for what was probably his life. "Ahem?" The manager coughed over WufeiâEs shoulder, and the Chinese boy narrowed his eyes, sharpening them on the new target. "BEEF, IT'S WHAT'S FOR DINNER, WEAKLING!!!" Wufei screamed, chasing the manager around the kitchen with the katana for a couple of minutes, of which we know nothing, before he chose to walk out of the building altogether, smirking. "Justice has been served. . ." _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _  
  
Meanwhile, Duo had been wisely advised to start his own business. Preferably something that didn't have an appeal to OZ. So, Duo had taken what was left of the tablecloth from the lemonade stand and draped it over a few tree branches in the local park. He had borrowed a pair of fluffy Arabian pants from Quatre and had taken off his shirt (Yes, Duo is topless. All fangirls are free to drool and/or swoon so long as you regain consciousness at some point to finish the fic). There, he sat cross-legged, waiting for someone to walk into his booth. Sign reads: "Mr. Cleo; psychic predictor of the future" A woman passerby read the sign and drew open the tablecloth to reveal the braided one, in a deep, fake, and did I mention convincing meditation. "Mr. Cleo?" She asked, waving a hand in front of his face. Duo opened one eye to her and then the other. "You have come to seek my council." He said, "Give me silver, and I will tell your future." He said, mesmerizing the audience with a lazy voice and the ever-evident smirk of pleasure with his diabolically twisted mind. "Will a dollar work?" She asked quickly, pulling one from her pocket. "Sure." Duo said in a sing-song voice, snapping out of his persona, and snapping back in quickly as he spread his hands and shaped them into "OK" signs, taking deep yoga breaths as if "tapping-into" the "distant beyond." "I see. . ." he looked to the ceiling of the plastic tablecloth tent, "I see . . . a bus!" "Yes?" She urged him on. "And there's a young and handsome man on this bus." He smiled evilly. "Go on!" She bit her lip hopefully. ". . . And the bus is coming toward you and just ran you over!!!" Duo threw back his head in a diabolical laugh, "MUAHAHAHAHA! . . . next?" He asked sweetly. Queued customers: O.o _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _  
  
Quatre had chosen a slightly different behind-the-scenes job, himself, where OZ wouldn't find him. He had had other cooking experience and the job was decently paying so he decided to apply and got the position. "Okay, we need two steaks with fries on table two and three salads." The waitress yelled into the window where Quatre (in a cute, white chef's hat) was busily cooking mashed potatoes, "You got all that, Winner?" The waitress asked. "Coming right up!" The Arab smiled contentedly, pulling out more potatoes for frying and a head of lettuce that he quickly began to pull apart. In a few minutes, there were soon three full plates of lettuce and cabbage that Quatre had topped with his home-made dressing. One of the kitchen helpers looked at the salads that their new chef had put out for serving. "You might want something else on those salads, man." The teenager told Quatre. "Oh, you're right." The Arab said, taking back the salads and shredding a carrot and cut up a tomato. He promptly put them back. "Now, man, you need some cucumber." The guy said, tossing the vegetable over to the chef. "Cu. . . Cu . . . Cucumber?" Quatre stuttered, jumping away from the counter, with flashes of the dancing cucumber on Heero's laptop still fresh in his mind. "Yo, what's your problem, dude?" the teenage kitchen helper waved a hand in front of the traumatized face. Quatre stared at the cucumber, and he saw it jump up and start to dance. Quatre blinked, before becoming absolutely terrified. "Dude, just slice-up the cucumber!" The kitchen helper said, while Quatre pointed a frightened finger at the vegetable. "I can't. It . . . It's dancing!" He shouted, trembling before the hallucination. "Yo, the new guy went mental, just like the last one!" The teen yelled calmly back to the manager, who mumbled something about, "dang kids and their drugs." With that, the manager quickly coaxed the shivering Quatre out the door, who tried in vain to tell him about the dancing cucumber. The manager just smiled and nodded, writing him off a check for 8 dollars for the hour he served them and waved goodbye, leaving a stunned Quatre facing the door to the restaurant, shivering with day-mares of cucumbers. _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _  
  
Let's see if Trowa's having any more luck, shall we? _ _ _ _ _ _ _ Quatre had told Trowa, as he had Duo, to find some way of starting an independent business. . . but he was never one to listen to orders. The stoic pilot had spent the last hour on the front steps of the safehouse watching the cars ride by, and eventually decided to take a walk. But no sooner had he started then he spotted the lemonade stand. "Hmm. . ." He picked up the pitcher, "Wufei said he liked it. . ." The bangled boy pondered a moment. "Eh, why not?" Trowa took a sip He blinked. "Hey, it is good." He stared at the yellowy liquid and that stoic face of his twisted into a devious smile. Whistling happily, he grabbed a bottle of vodka and began to restore Duo's creation. (as the camera zooms out, we can hear a crash of thunder as Trowa flings his head back.  
  
_ _ _ _ _ _Back at the safehouse: Stage 2 laptop withdrawal: anger _ _ _ __ _ _ _ _  
  
It took Heero three hours to realize that the chocolate ice cream container in his hands was completely empty, and he cursed quietly in Japanese as he became bored again. Leaving the ice cream container on the living room floor, he headed to his desk that usually had his laptop on it. During the next hour, Heero attempted to rebuild the rest of his laptop with various household items, being the genius he was. This included an experiment with toothpicks and a large quantity of that hair gel that Wufei and Trowa like so much, but it didn't work. He tried taking various bits of scrap metals from Duo's collection of salvaged parts and melting them together with the hairdryer. This also was in vain. Soon, Heero's fingers began to twitch involuntarily, and all Heero could do was sit back and watch them type away. It was frightening, to say the least. And then, after all hope was lost, he took to staring into the desk. We have no clue why, or what he was looking for, but he was just staring. Staring . . . One minute later: Staring . . . blinks . . . Ten minutes later: Staring . . . motion operated light turns off . . . darkness. . . more staring. . . Okay, so we're not exactly sure how long Heero stared at the desk, but the unusual silence was definitely starting to go to his head, so he turned on the TV so at least there would be some noise in the room. This was probably not the best idea, because as soon as he turned it on, a commercial for the new DELL laptop came on with that same annoying salesman. The Japanese pilot stared at the screen angrily. "Dude, I had a DELL!!" Heero whipped out the infamous pistol from the depths of his spandex, "Omae o korosu!!!" He fired at the annoying salesman who just said "dude" for the last time. Heero smirked contentedly at the sizzling television before going back to the desk. _ _ _ __ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ ************************** A/N (Foxfire): O.o I'm definitely having way- too much fun writing this. I'm scared of myself. Anyway, let's check our stats, here: Duo: Psychic predictor of death Wufei: Thinks chicken is weak Quatre: Still traumatized by "veggie tales" Trowa: Putting consumer ignorance to better use Heero: State of denial 


End file.
